


Coffee Shop Soundtrack

by sayonide



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Supernatural Elements, conflicting tags i know but trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayonide/pseuds/sayonide
Summary: Clover was used to his schedule. Wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat, and scatter in some university students desperate for caffeine.It was a life he was happy with. So he thought, until the day a black bird with annoyingly sharp claws came into his life and turned his entire world upside down.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

Clover leaned back in his chair and stretched, reaching out a hand to accept a high five from his coworker walking out of the staff room. "Heading home?" he asked, and she groaned. 

"I might become a tea person after this," she told him, brushing brown dust from her shirt with a grimace. "The second I've paid off the damages, don't expect me to come back here."

With a lighthearted chuckle, he watched her push open the door, calling out after her, "The only reason you have to pay off damages in the first place is _because_ of our tea, Ilia. Same time tomorrow, and you'll be free to buy it as a customer in a few days."

She groaned, loudly, waving at him before she let go of the door and walked away. Clover let out another laugh, standing from his seat to start properly closing up. As he was dragging the trash bags outside, though, a wild fluttering caught his attention. 

It wasn't uncommon to be hearing things, especially birds, start becoming more active as the night fell. The difference with this, though, was that the fluttering seemed... Panicked. Out of control. 

And headed right towards him.

Clover yelped at the sight of a fluttering black mass careening at his face, throwing up his hands. A second later, a loud, angry cawing filled the air, and he almost screamed when he realized that the bird - a crow, by the look of it - had somehow ended up in his hands, and it was _furious_.

He did scream then, and flapped his arms to try and get it off, but the crow just tightened its talons around his arm and continued the frantic cawing. 

"W-woah, hey, calm! Calm!" he yelled, and stumbled back into the wall, inadvertently hitting the bird against the bricks. With a final squawk, it let go of him and dropped to the ground with a fluttering of its wings, before giving him what Clover swore looked like a _death glare_ and flying off.

Clover pushed off the wall onto shaking legs, glancing around the now-empty alleyway. There was no bird in sight, and everything seemed so suddenly silent that he would've thought that he'd imagined the whole thing, if not for the still bleeding scratches left along his arms and hands. 

Glancing down at the bags of trash littering the ground, he squinted at them and kicked them to lie beside the dumpsters. He’d deal with them tomorrow morning, when there was less of a risk of getting infected. 

When he got home, he flicked the lights on and opened the bathroom cabinet, only to find a couple rolls of toilet paper and… Not much else. It took him barely a minute of searching before he remembered the last time he’d spilt boiling water on himself and used up the last of what minimal first aid he had. 

Clover reached over to grab his phone, resigned to checking if the pharmacies were still open, but winced and pressed his hand against his shoulder with a hiss when just closing his hand into a fist caused the scratches to sting like hell. The pain shot through his hand as he pressed the home button, navigating as lightly as possible to his contacts list. Harriet was gone for the entire week, Vine was still at work… 

He almost let out an honest-to-god _growl_ as he realized how little people he had the numbers of. The only people left who he still talked to, or knew where they were, were his parents and Ilia. 

Over a thousand miles away, or the university freshman who worked for him. Unless he was willing to wait for nearly three days - a bad idea, considering the blood still dripping from the scratches - then Clover would have to suck it up and hope like hell that Ilia was around either a gang of reasonable people, or some adult who could act as a supervisor.

With that, a heavy sigh, and then a muttered curse as he was forced to tap the screen twice to call her and put her on speaker, he dropped into a chair and waited. 

It barely even took two rings before she picked up, and he heard the tail end of muted shushing before her voice came through. “Clover?”

He leaned over the phone and waved, even though she couldn’t see him. “Hi, Ilia. Would you happen to have someone who could kick my ass and some medical supplies?” After a second’s pause, he added, “Preferably an adult?”

A few more seconds of silence, and then - “Are you… Trying to skip work tomorrow? Because I can and will just not show up and tell all the customers after that you asked to be beat up-”

“No!” he rushed out, and he could _feel_ his cheeks going bright red. “No, no, damnit, I mean- I was cleaning up, after you left, and this bird attacked me in the back and I’ve run out of medical supplies, so it’d be awesome if you had some you could bring over, but you’re also my _employee_ and _several years younger_ than me, so some other adult to verify that - you know, that our interactions were friendly and a hundred percent because I’m an idiot, that’d be, you know, it’d be nice.”

When he finally stopped, he heard light laughter from the other side of the line, and a teasing “Are you sure? No beating you up?” before her voice grew muffled again. A few seconds later, it returned, and to Clover’s relief, in the affirmative. “I got an adult, send me your address and we’ll come with a kit, get ready to be patched up by a teenager.”

* * *

Nearly half an hour later, the doorbell rang, and Clover realized a flaw in his plan. Through the past thirty minutes, the scratches had swollen up, healing into messy scabs that screamed in protest to his movements. He reached out, hesitant, and closed his fingers around the lock, only to pull them back, stifling a shout. From the other side, three quick knocks came.

“Are you sure this is the right address?” he heard, and a familiar sigh came in response. 

“We double checked it already, and then triple checked, and then checked it _again_ when we got here. He’s gotta be inside somewhere.”

To Clover’s eternal relief, the first voice was deeper, and he thanked the Gods that Ilia had listened and had brought along another adult, before calling out through the door, “Sorry, I’m trying to open it!”

He considered the door for a moment, staring at the lock. It wasn’t the _worst_ idea he’d ever had, but… If he could avoid doing it… 

The knocking came again, and through the sound of the mystery man telling Ilia to be patient, he leaned down, slow, and caught the lock between his teeth. With a twist of his head, the lock turned into position.

Fortunately, it worked. _Unfortunately_ , Ilia had chosen that time to try turning the doorknob, and Clover leaned back as the door swung upon and glanced up to meet a stranger’s eyes. 

His teeth still gripping onto the lock, he hummed out an embarrassed noise of acknowledgement and let the lock drop out from his mouth before standing up straight and clearing his throat. The other man regarded him with no small bit of amusement, before holding out a hand. “Qrow Branwen,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

Clover glanced down at his hand, and then back up, before lifting a half-curled hand and giving him an awkward wave. “Hi, Clover Ebi. I’d shake your hand right now, but I can’t really move mine.”

The man - Qrow - looked over at his scratched-up hand, and his eyes went wide. “Woah,” he muttered. “Fuck, I’m s-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Clover watched as Ilia tilted over slightly and elbowed him, cutting him off. Qrow winced lightly, elbowing her back, and continued. “So, I have no medical knowledge, but I do have two nieces, and obviously can beat you up” - Clover almost let out a snort at that - “So, I’ll just sit by and watch, or something.” 

Clover and Ilia nodded at almost the same time, and he led the way to the kitchen, dropping into a chair and motioning for Qrow to take one of the spares he left around for his parents. “Go sit down,” he said as Ilia pulled a separate, smaller bag out of the bag that she’d brought over. “Unless Ilia’s one of the Gods, this is gonna take a while.”

True to his word, it took nearly an hour for the two of them to figure out how best to treat and wrap his hands without aggravating the scabs and hurting him more. By the time they were done, Qrow was yawning as he waved goodbye and slipped into his car. 

Clover nudged the door shut with a smile, looked at the cupboards of food that required moving his hands to get to, checked the time, and promptly flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes. Food was an issue for tomorrow-Clover. Today-Clover just got bandaged up, and was completely willing to ignore the question of how the hell he was going to work with his hands scratched and wrapped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 enjoy?

_ Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. _

Clover leaned his head against the glass door and cursed his past self for not at least arranging for anyone to come in earlier to help him open the shop. Ilia was  _ at his house _ . He  _ knew  _ that she had the numbers of multiple people who worked there. 

_ Thunk. Thunk. Th- _

“Clover?”

_ -UNK. _

A strangled noise wrenched its way out of his throat, and he swung around with a hand pressed against the back of his head. Almost immediately, a flash of brown appeared in his vision when he stumbled from the movement. 

He looked up to see Ilia, a cup of coffee in hand -  _ traitor _ \- and her other one on his shoulder, which really didn’t do much in terms of steadying him, but it was the thought that counted. 

“Clover?” she repeated, and he blinked. “Are you alright? What are you doing?”

Instead of responding verbally, Clover raised his hand and waved it a little, almost identical to how he had the previous night, and her face lit up in realization, patting at her pockets before her face fell.

“Fuck. I don’t have the keys.”

As he watched, she turned around to look at someone else, standing a few feet away. He hadn’t noticed the other girl standing there, awkwardly sipping from her own cup of what he assumed was also coffee. 

Ilia looked down and continued searching for pockets, and Clover almost considered leaving her until she inevitably realized. Fortunately for her, though, her friend seemed to have caught on and slid over to him, tapping at his arm. 

The first thing he noticed was that she was a lot taller than expected. Still short enough for him to end up looking at the top of her head, sure, but  _ way _ taller than Ilia. 

The second he noticed was that she smelled like smoke. Almost overwhelmingly so. He didn’t have much time to think on that, though, when she leaned up, whispering about as close to his ear as he expected her to be able to reach, “You have the key, don’t you?”

He tamped down a grin and just nodded, watching Ilia growl in confusion, and looked back over at the blonde. “Key’s in my bag,” he mumbled. “Side pocket, the one closer to you.” As his bag shifted over, Ilia dropped her own to the ground and started rifling through it. The blonde girl slid back next to him, the smell of smoke hitting him again, and gently shook the keys.

A second later, Ilia looked back up, and he briefly panicked before her gaze slid over her friend right to him. 

“I gotta go to class soon, shit,” she sighed. Clover tensed up his entire face in an attempt to make it less obvious that he was on the verge of breaking out laughing, which really didn’t do much except get him a weird look from Ilia. Smoke filled his nose again as the bottom half of his face was covered with a head of yellow, allowing him to break out a snicker before pressing his expression back to neutral.

The blonde reached out a hand, dropping something into Ilia’s hand, and Clover figured it must’ve been the key before she spoke.

“You left your phone with me earlier,” she said, and he caught the grateful look on Ilia’s face before the blonde turned around again to face the door. 

Ilia tapped through her phone, saying, “Shit, thanks, Yang,” -  _ Yang _ , he noted - “I’ll call someone else to come and unlock the door.” Yang hummed in acknowledgement, the lock letting out a firm  _ click _ as the key turned to the end. At the same time, Clover let out his grin when Ilia tapped at the screen and pulled it up to her ear as it rang.

“Hey! Are you free right now?” 

Yang dropped the key back into Clover’s hand, and he watched as she pushed open the door, ushering Ilia in. “Sit down inside,” he caught. “We have another half hour before the door locks.”

To his  _ eternal _ amusement, she just sighed and followed Yang into the open store, continuing her conversation on the phone, and Clover traded an amused glance with the smoke scented girl before heading back to the back room to see what he could do with his hands bandaged up.

Five minutes later, a yell came from the front, and he almost fell over himself laughing.

* * *

About three days later, he saw the man - Qrow - again. 

It was a slower day. It was always a  _ slow _ day, compared to some of the stores closer to the middle of the city, but it had been an especially slow day, with just a few people wandering in and out to get a few small things. Clover was seriously considering dragging a chair back over the counter with nothing else to do when the bell at the front door rang again, and he snapped up to attention.

A familiar head of dark hair popped into his line of sight, slowly headed towards the counter, and a smile broke out across Clover’s face without his noticing.

“Qrow, right?” he said, extending his now unbandaged hand. “I didn’t get to shake your hand the first time we met, so- here.”

The other man gripped his hand, slow and hesitant, yanking it back as soon as Clover winced, as if it were burnt.

“Still a bit sore,” Clover sighed. “It’s mostly fine now, but… Ow.”

He could’ve sworn that he heard a soft, guilty, “‘M sorry,” and Clover glanced up from where he’d looked down to his hand, catching Qrow’s scratching softly behind his neck. With an easy laugh, he waved his other hand in the air. 

“Not your fault!” he reminded the man. “Anyway, what can I get for you?”

With a pause that would’ve been awkward with anyone else, Qrow opened his mouth, paused, closed it again, opened it back up, and then snapped it shut with a raised finger, his other hand going down to his pocket. “I- Sorry,” he apologized, again. “This was on the way, so I’m here to pick something up for my niece, and - do you understand this any better than I do?” 

He raised his phone to show Clover, who leaned across the counter and squinted. 

So maybe he needed glasses. Whatever.

When he finally read the order, Clover glanced up, amused. 

“Would your niece’s name happen to be Yang, or is this just a strangely specific and popular drink that we don’t usually make here?”

Qrow turned the phone back around and his eyes moved across the screen, reading what was typed up, and grimaced. “Yeah,” he said. “She told me you guys had it, sorry, I can go and tell her…” 

He trailed off as he looked up, catching Clover’s casual wave of dismissal. “Don’t worry about it, I just made it for her a while ago, it really doesn’t take very long.” 

Qrow hesitated, and Clover saw his eyes dart from him to the wall, down to the counter, and back up again, before shooting him a smile, barely more than a quirk of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’ll tell her it’s not a menu item when I get there, anyway, sorry again.”

With a last wave of reassurance, Clover checked the door for anyone about to walk in before turning to the back to start on the drink.

On average, a drink that was more complicated than a coffee with some milk or sugar took about 5-7 minutes, if everything was prepared and just had to be put together. Because of the amount of spare time he’d had the entire day, everything was  _ very much _ prepared, and he had it ready within 10 minutes. As he leaned over the counter, though, he paused a moment before taking the money that Qrow held out. 

It was now or… Well, probably not never, but not anytime soon, either. 

“I also wanted to ask about… Your niece.”

The hand holding the bill still outstretched, Qrow raised an eyebrow, and he immediately realized how it could have sounded. “I mean, I had to give her the keys to open the store, and Ilia was there too, and I just noticed-”

He cut himself off there, wondering - probably too late - if this really was something to bring up in the middle of a coffee shop to her uncle, and before he could properly come to a decision, Qrow’s eyes widened.

Leaning over the counter so far that Clover almost feared he was going to tip right over it, the nervous mess of a man Qrow had been just seconds earlier completely disappeared. He looked right at Clover, intense, and hissing, “Not here. Don’t bring it up here, come on.”

* * *

At Clover’s urging, they stayed in sight of the café doors. Before Qrow could say anything, eyeing the door as if someone could hear them from inside, Clover stepped forward to get his attention. 

“You need to do something about it,” he urged. “It’s obvious -  _ too _ obvious - she’s one of Ilia’s classmates, isn’t she?”

“Wait, what do you-”

Before he fully realized that Qrow was speaking, he was already driving forward. “So that makes her - 18? 19? That’s - that’s too young, Qrow. She’s too young for something like th-”

He was cut off with hands on his shoulders, the other man staring up at him. 

“What are you talking about?”

Clover blinked, confused, and shrugged off his hands. “You know, her smoking problem? Qrow, I could smell it on her from several feet away, it’s not  _ subtle _ .”

To add to his confusion, though, Qrow just looked down and snickered. “Right. Right, her- her  _ smoking _ problem.”

“What- Qrow, this is serious. She’s too young to be dealing with something like this, you need to step in.  _ Soon. _ ” 

With a sigh, a hand was placed back onto his shoulder, and Qrow grinned up at him, amused. “Clover, buddy, did you smell nicotine on her?” 

He balked, then, and ducked his head, trying to remember. “Well-”

“Or did you smell  _ smoke _ ?”

Clover reached up to scratch at the back of his head, deciding that it was in his best interest to not look at Qrow. For reasons. Reasons not being that his face had gone bright red in realization and the little smirk on his face was  _ not _ helping.

“Well I… I guess it was smoke? I don’t- I don’t know, uh. Yeah. I think it was smoke. Not… Cigs. Fuck. Uh, I’m sorry about this,” he offered with a weak smile. Fuck, why was he stuttering? He  _ never _ stuttered!

Luckily, Qrow seemed to find it amusing, letting out a laugh. With an amused sparkle in his eyes that threatened to turn Clover’s face even brighter red, he waved his free hand dismissively in an incredibly familiar move. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, grinning, and took his other hand off to raise them both up next to his head. “I’m glad you were concerned, but really, I’d prefer you to think on it for a bit before scaring me.”

Clover groaned and followed the man back inside. A glance around showed that no one new had entered the store while he was distracted, and he slid the drink - luckily still just under hot - over to Qrow. 

With a last wink, Qrow spun around and headed out the door, leaving Clover to grab a chair and slide down behind the counter in embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you had a good day. and if not, i hope you find something that makes it a little better.
> 
> anyway this is gonna actually probably be updated more than gdts because guess who has an actual plot for this lol

**Author's Note:**

> remember to take a breath, get some water, and check in with yourself. you're doing incredible.
> 
> this was gonna be for fgw but i decided on another idea so here
> 
> have a ton of homework right now so uhh sorry bout not writing! thanks for reading <3
> 
> (also: yes the title is from all time low)


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